


sticky notes

by dorkysetters



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Multi, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:42:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25043344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkysetters/pseuds/dorkysetters
Summary: balter (v.) - to dance artlessly, without particular grace or skill but usually with enjoyment
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72





	sticky notes

Their fridge was littered with sticky notes. There were too many for the array to look aesthetically pleasing in any way, all different colors in varying shapes and sizes, places wherever someone could find an inch or two of free space. The tradition had started out of necessity; neither Hanamaki nor Matsukawa could keep up with schedules or calendars and now that adulthood and all its subsequent responsibilities had finally claimed them, they needed something to remind them when to take the trash out or what to buy during their next shopping trip. Nowadays, reminders and other practical messages had mostly been replaced with more sentimental memos: inside jokes documented in Hanamaki’s chicken scratch, sloppy “love you” notes from Matsukawa, doodles left behind by guests. Altogether, they made getting a snack or fixing dinner much more nostalgic.

A sticky note of the rarer, adult-esque sort fluttered down from its spot on the fridge as Matsukawa opened the door. He bent down to pick it up.

_dancing @ 3. wear workout stuff :p_

“Hiro?” he called.

“Yeah?” Hanamaki answered from the living room, voice muffled by the wall between them.

“What’s this note for? Dancing at three?”

There were a few moments of silence as Hanamaki made his way into the kitchen. He looked, to Matsukawa, extremely soft in his flannel pajama pants and wrinkled t-shirt. He resisted the urge to pull the other man into a tight hug and never let him go, opting to hold up the note instead.

“Oh. That,” Hanamaki moved forward to take the note. He smiled down at it fondly before sticking it back on the fridge. “Oikawa called earlier. He wants all the groomsmen to take dance lessons with him and Iwaizumi.”

“Huh. That’ll be fun, I guess. I’m kind of offended he just assumed we don’t know how to dance, though.”

Hanamaki smirked. “I don’t. Do you?”

Matsukawa elbowed the fridge door shit before holding a hand out to Hanamaki. “Beats me. Wanna find out?”

Hanamaki laughed, blushing as though dancing alone in a kitchen was the most intimate thing they could, or had, done together. “We can find out tomorrow at three. I’ve got work to do.”

Matsukawa held up his hands in surrender. “Suit yourself. I just figured you’d want to see whatever natural skill I have before it’s molded by the establishment.”

“You think you have natural skill?”

“I’ve been known to bust a move every now and then.”

Hanamaki leaned against the counter. “Well, let’s see one then.”

“Alright. I learned this one from TikTok.”

Hanamaki forced his face to remain emotionless as Matsukawa worked his way through whatever monstrosity the internet had taught him. He clapped politely when it was finally over, forcing back the barking laughter that threatened to escape. “Very impressive.”

Matsukawa bowed. “Thank you.”

“I don’t think that’s the kind of dancing Oikawa’s looking for, though.”

“Probably not,” he shrugged. “But I can’t really do that kind by myself.”

Hanamaki rolled his eyes. “Come ‘ere, twinkle toes.”

They met in the middle of the kitchen, Matsukawa smiling a warm, half-smile, Hanamaki wondering why, after years of dating, his face still burned whenever they suddenly closed the gap between them. There were a few moments of fumbling and tender, awkward laughter as they wondered where to put their hands. There was no music to move in time to, only the hum of the air-conditioner and the steady murmur of breath. And so they swayed without a guide, feet moving whenever it suited them, both taking turns leading and following. After a few long, quiet moments, Matsukawa leaned down to hide his face in the crook of Hanamaki’s neck. He sighed.

“What’s up with you?” Hanamaki asked, hands running through Matsukawa’s hair. “Didn’t you come in here for like, yogurt or something?”

Matsukawa shrugged. “Y’know. Weddings and love and shit.”

“Yeah.”

They kept dancing. As time went on, their movements slowed until they were barely moving back and forth. A few moments and they were standing still, holding each other in their shared kitchen, next to a fridge covered in sticky notes.

“Issei?”

“Hm?”

“I’m pretty sure your hands aren’t supposed to go on my ass.”

“I dunno. Feels fine to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! This fic was a tumblr request (you can find me there @ softiwaizumi)


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